


Mage Robes

by littlebark



Series: Linette Trevelyan [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Arguments, F/M, frienship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebark/pseuds/littlebark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It amazes her how everyone seems to have an opinion on what she wears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Compliment

Linette Trevelyan entered the room.

He didn’t even have to turn around to know that it was her. She had a certain aura, a way her energy travelled and touched everyone in the room before you spotted her and always smiling face.

Cullen was becoming an expert on her. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, it had begun in Haven, where doubt and - as much as it pained him now to admit - mistrust had made watching her his duty. Admiration for this ordinary woman with this extraordinary burden had quickly burnt away any misgivings and soon he had found himself wondering about her, her life and thoughts.

Lucky for him, she had been wondering the same thing.

He dismissed his soldier with a slight nod, frowning when it took him a barely audible cough to get his attention. "You're free to go," he said, watching the soldier's face snap from the Inquisitor's to his before saluting and all but sprinting out of there.

"That's new," she said with a small laugh, "usually they don't run for the hills until my hand starts glowing."

Cullen smiled as he turned around, eyes still on the paper. Maker, but it was never ending. "You're the Herald of Andrade. The green recruits are bound to feel a bit more threatened by the legend in the flesh."

She let out a small snort, "that was no green recruit, Cullen. He's been with us almost from the start. I believe you said his name was Isaac?"

Surprised, he paused his reading and said, "I didn't realize you knew their names."

"I do pay _some_ attention when you start mumbling about rosters and shift changes. Even the ones you mutter in your sleep."

That would have normally earned a small laugh from him. He was so engrossed in this latest report from Emprise de Lion - how in the Maker's name did the red templars manage to set such a foothold, so quickly - that he didn't hear her sigh and _almost_ didn't hear the disappointment in her voice when she said, "I can come back later, if this is a bad time."

The pounding headache, the never ending nausea and aching body very nearly had him snapping at her that it was clearly terrible timing. Instead, he set the paper on the desk and looked up to face her. "No, I had been hoping you'd come..."

She wasn't wearing the usual beige suit that she wore around Skyhold. He quickly racked his brain, frowning when he realized it wasn't her regular armour either.

They were mage robes.

He felt his cheeks grow warm, his belly do an odd flip that he was sure had nothing to do with an upset stomach. He opened his mouth to say something, _anything,_ but his tongue had grown too big for his mouth.

It was a simple blue robe, that clung to her every curve. The skirt of it was willowy enough that it shifted elegantly as she leaned into her hip. The colour reminded Cullen of the waters of Lake Calenhad during a storm, a deep blue that complemented her olive skin nicely. The plain white bodice belt held up the just as equally plain white suspenders, as well as an apron where she was keeping elfroot and -from the sound of the slight clinking coming from it- some vials in its pockets.

Perhaps the main thing that had drawn his gaze to her midsection was the buckle on the bodice, the symbol of the Inquisition. He wondered if she realized just what an image she made.

“ _Cullen.”_

The exasperation in her voice had his eyes snapping back up to hers. He bowed his head slightly, awed by how very much she looked the Herald of Andraste instead of just Linette. How foolish of him to forget. “I...Sorry. I got distracted.”

Her lips turned downward, annoyance in her eyes. Her hands pulled at her skirts as she said, “it’s too much, isn’t it? I missed my robes so I asked Josephine for new ones. Clearly she took it upon herself to make them as non-magey as possible. Isn’t that silly? Out of all the things to miss from my life at the Circle, it was this.”

“Well, I don’t imagine it was the lurking templars,” he said easily as he leaned back on his desk. Definitely trying to ignore the warmth in his belly now. Not thinking about what was causing it.

This caused her lips to quirk up. “They didn’t lurk _that_ much. Not all templars _lurk_. I can’t imagine you lurking. Much.”

He skipped over this, most certainly not thinking of a certain mage in the Fereldan tower. A lifetime ago. “So. Mage robes?”

Linette held his gaze for a second too long, and he saw the comprehension in her eyes momentarily. _Not now,_ he wanted to beg. She seemed to understand and a moment too late she said, “I just… I’ve always worn a dress. My whole life. And then I woke up in those awful green pants with its matching jacket. I haven’t been able to shake pants since then.”

“Dresses are rather illogical, aren’t they? For fighting?”

She shrugged her slim shoulders delicately, rolling her eyes, “I guess? I wouldn’t have known, if none of this had never happened.” Her eyes met his, and she smiled warmly, “then again, none of the good stuff that came with it would have ever happened either.”

Cullen smiled, that warmth travelling to his face now. “Were the pants worth it, then?”

“Absolutely,” her voice was laughter and love all in one, “I did meet this one ex-templar. Didn’t lurk. Definitely seemed to like my robes.”

At this, his face flushed hot, “they’re nice!”

Her eyebrows wiggled suggestively, “you know… Varric was telling me he’d lend me a book his friend Isabela loved. Something about a mage and a templar and the temptations that run between them.”

“Please stop,” he groaned, shuddering at the idea of whatever book Isabela could get her hands on, “I can imagine the type of book she would recommend.”

“I could read Varric’s smutty novels. I’m sure that won’t make for awkward conversation at _all_ while on the road.”

He glared. Hard.

Grinning, she crossed the room and tilted her head, “so they’re _just_ nice?”

“They’re lovely,” he whispered as he grabbed her hands and raised them to his lips, his smile meeting his eyes and lighting up his whole face, “just as you are.”

It was, she supposed, the best compliment she could think of.


	2. Argument

“Have a thing for strapping young templars, I see.”

Her eyes peered at Dorian over the top of the book she’d been reading, her mind still immersed in the old Chantry books she’d been poring over. They narrowed slightly when she couldn’t get a read from him, his profile calm and completely unhelpful as he scanned the bookshelves for a book. She sighed before she straightened in the chair he kept by the window and said, “what's this about?”

“Oh, nothing. Just something I find rather _adorable_ about you.”

_That_ got her to shut the book with a loud snap, scowling in earnest now. “Spit it out, Dorian. I’m not willing to play this game. Not today.”

“Game? My dear Inquisitor, you _wound_ me,” he sent her a glance over his shoulder, his voice light and teasing.

She wasn’t fooled. Reaching to put the book on the windowsill, Linette glared at him, “couldn’t if I tried, with that confidence of yours. Dorian…”

“It’s nothing, really,” he turned to her now, leaning casually against the bookshelf, “it’s just, with the mage robes and pining for the templar, for a second I feared I’d been tricked into one of your southern Chantry prisons. Had to make sure that Varric was still around, they’d never allow a dwarf in. Unless he was to supply the lyrium, of course.”

The words hit her but they didn’t make sense. This was _Dorian_. After Redcliffe, she’d found the person she’d trust with her life and it had been Dorian. She looked down at the robes she wore, ones that felt more like home than the awful beige clothing they’d given her, robes she’d _asked_ for to feel a little like her old self. There was no Chantry symbol on the smock she wore over them, instead the Inquisition eye had taken its place on her belt.

Her mouth opened once, then shut it firmly. Her teeth hit each other with such force it felt like the vibrations resonated all the way to her skull. She held Dorian’s stare, sure that her eyes were spitting mad. She took a deep breath before saying, “I would have thought the shit brown wardrobe I had before would have offended your taste.”

Surprise flashed over his face for a second before he composed himself. Dorian shrugged easily, “it’s not the robes that I dislike, Inquisitor. They are very you, and I like you immensely.”

“It’s just what they imply then,” the snarled retort was out before she could help it. “Because it can’t possibly mean that I just wanted to be more comfortable. No no. Everything must have an ulterior motive. Is that right?”

“I was merely trying to -”

“Oh, shove it,” Linette jumped to her feet, hands landing on her hips, “this isn’t a Chantry movement, Dorian. Last I checked they didn’t allow Qunari either. How could I make this a Chantry movement and deprive you of that joy?”

She meant the words sarcastically. Spitefully. Expected Dorian to laugh off her idiocy and move on.

Instead he went still and _his_ mouth hung open a little. It took a beat too long before he said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Dorian-”

“You do realize, of course, the _gossip_ that will follow the both of you? The Commander of the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste,” his smirk was mocking, arms crossed now, “I do know how you detest gossip.”

Linette raised her hand to the side of her head, unsure of what was happening, “Dorian. I’m not trying to change anything…. _You_ don’t have to wear robes. I  know it would be a foolish endeavor to try to tell you what to wear.”

He let out a laugh, so unlike anything she’d heard from him it caused her hands to clench. Her mana stirred, reacting to her anger. Before either one of them could say anything, Solas’ sighed from below and said, “children.”

It was the tone of an adult talking down to a child. Heat flooded her face instantly, and she looked down at floor. Solas had earned her respect, with his endless knowledge and her desire to learn. To have him speak to her like a bickering child, it was more than she could handle. Without saying anything further to Dorian, she strode past him and down the staircase. She kept her eyes forward, not daring to look at Solas’ face and what she imagined would either be disappoint or annoyance on his face.

Instead she marched outside, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She’d been an only child, until her parents had another child but at that point she was already in the Circle. Rarely had she had the practice of teasing and taking and giving that she saw between siblings. Instead they’d had polite conversation and the knowledge that the youngest Trevelyan was a replacement for the one cursed with magic.

She considered going up to Cullen’s office, knew that he would be more than willing to listen to her. Her feet were unwilling to move, all she had to do was think how right Dorian was about the gossip that would follow for it to suddenly seem like a bad idea.

_I should ask: do the rumours bother_ **_you?_ **

_Why should it bother me? Everyone’s talking about the Inquisition._

And then he’d followed that up with the declaration of friendship she still hadn’t reciprocated. Not because she hadn’t wanted to. She had, desperately. But no one, since she’d left for the Circle really, had expressed any kind of emotion towards her. Not until she went home and Mama and Papa tried to make up for years of love they could no longer give. It was the first time in a long time that she hadn’t been worshiped or revered, just told what a good friend she was and how much she mattered in someone’s life as just Linette.

“Well hey there, you!” Sera’s voice cut through her thoughts, her voice cheerful enough to pull a small smile to her face, “where you headed?”

“I don’t know,” Linette admitted sheepishly, “fancy a drink?”

Sera snorted, “that’s a silly question, innit?”

“I suppose it was,” grateful for a destination, she hurried to catch up to Sera and tried not to sigh when she caught her looking at her. “Let me guess. My robes?”

“Eh? Oh. Well. I thought we’d quit with, you know, the magic stuff? For a bit? We already got all them mages. Who needs the robes to go with it?” Sera pushed the door open, tilting her head at Linette and the scowl on her face.

“They’re just _robes_. They aren’t magic, they don’t do anything magical except make me feel more comfortable!”

“Alright then-”

Linette threw her hands up in frustration, hissing a bit when she saw Sera’s eyes narrow, “I think I’ll pass on the drink.”

She didn’t wait for Sera’s response. Pretending not to hear her name being called, she marched towards the stables.

_“They were meant to be a new beginning, to help with the ending that was unwanted. Instead they’re just another reminder of all the things that aren’t.”_

“NO,” she hadn't noticed she’d been walking faster than normal until she stopped suddenly and her body seemed to move forward for a second. Closing her eyes, she shook her head slightly and breathed, “Cole, no. Not now.”

“ _I just want to help.”_

Oh, but wasn’t that a phrase she knew well. It never ended the way she hoped. It never had.

She was beginning to wonder if it ever would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorian is one of my favourite characters in this game. In my head, with MY Inquisitor, he pushes her a bit. They've both taken what they can from the whole "we're distantly related" bit because they are both so far away from everyone and the things they love. They constantly tease each other, and sometimes it goes a bit pear shaped. 
> 
> Even as the best of friends, you're bound to bicker.


	3. Understanding

Of course she’d closed herself off in her room.

He'd knocked once, then again when she'd given him no response. Varric had gotten a hold of him, and though chastise wasn't the right word, he'd certainly made Dorian regret his choice of words towards the Inquisitor. He would never admit that, not to her or Varric, but it had troubled him enough that he now found himself walking up the stairs to her suite.

Her lack of response would have deterred most everyone else, he knew. Instead he said, “I know you’re in there. Nightingale said you’d been up there since last night. It’s past noon, you can’t make it much longer without food.”

Nothing. Dorian sighed loudly and pushed the door open. The walk up the steps in her suite gave him no clues on what she was doing. Worried she’d be asleep, he peeked up over the railing and choked on the gasp that escaped him.

“What in the Void are you _doing_?” his voice was higher than he’d have liked it, but the sight of books scattered around her, some of them on the floor, laying wide open while it damaged their spines… He thought it was rather remarkable of him that she wasn’t electrocuted on the spot.

Linette looked up slowly at him, her lips still mouthing whatever phrase she had been reading. She had to blink a couple of times, clearing the haze from her brown eyes. “Dorian,” she croaked.

He threw her a glare while he made his way around her room, picking up books. An indignant cry escaped her but he ignored her, purpose in his steps as he collected the books she’d left on the floor. “You are going to explain to me, why in the name of all that is holy, you thought leaving books like this was a good idea,” he snapped finally as he put a good ten or twelve books on her desk. He cringed when he saw a copy of a Necromancy book in the stack. Dorian pulled it out, turned to her and said, “this isn’t you.”

She shifted on the bed, groaning at the pain that travelled through her stiff limbs. Tempted to aid herself with a bit of rejuvenation, she instead turned to face Dorian. “How do you know?”

“Because it _isn’t_. You are a great many things, but this… I do not believe it is you.”

“Dorian-”

He shook his head, hands trembling slightly. Scowling, he snapped, “I came to apologize, I suppose. I shouldn’t have-”

“Stop. Please,” she pushed the books away, smiling apologetically at him as his scowl darkened, “you were right. Not about everything, but… some parts, you were right. And I don’t ever want you think you have to apologize for speaking your mind.”

“You’ll regret that decision,” he said easily, crossing the room to sit on the spot she had cleared from him on his bed, “soon you’ll be in the war room, wondering ‘ _hmm… how do I shut that mage up? Ambassador! Send him a case of our finest wine, that should do the trick for awhile!_ ”.

She grinned, rubbing her tired eyes, “it would work, too.”

“Of course it would. You tend the find the best of the best while wandering about in your journeys.”

“We have an excellent wine cellar,” reaching under bed, she pulled out one of the bottles they were joking about and tossed it at him, “it would be a waste to just leave it out there.”

He accepted the goblet she handed him, grateful when she poured the wine in. The smell alone had his mouth pool with saliva more than was appropriate for the occasion. If she noticed, she said nothing. They sat in silence for awhile, words he meant to say refusing to come out. It surprised him when he opened his mouth and the words "don't change" came out.

Her head snapped to towards him, those almond shaped eyes flashing with curiosity.  "Dorian?"

His stomach lurched. It was so much easier to coat his words with flattery and teasing and deflection. Knew she expected some of that from him, even know as his hands shook and his brow furrowed. "You know I don't like being a sentimental fool-"

"Since when?" Her lips quirked into a lopsided smile while she reached for his hands.

"Shush," his snap was good natured, squeezing her hands quickly. Her warmth was comforting, bolstered him. "It wasn't your robes. They're lovely, truly. And I understand wanting a bit of home with you. I'm just... Wouldn't it be tempting to use this to make things the you want? All you've known is the Circle. I guess I foolishly thought that maybe that's where you were steering this towards. With the mage robes and templar boyfriend."

"Ex-templar," Linette muttered as a blush colored her face. She let out a small huff of breath, closing her eyes. "And I don't know what we are."

"Excellent snogging partners, the way I hear it."

Her face burned brighter still, her brown skin glowing. "One time. On the barracks. And there's already rumours."

"Inquisitor..."

"Dorian... " she parroted back before sighing. "You don't ask easy questions."

At this he smiled easily, "I never have."

She laughed softly, and opened her eyes. Fixed them on the fire, raising her fingers one by one to make the flames flicker along with the rhythm."It was tempting, in the beginning. I thought, if a Circle Mage fixed this then the Rebel mages would have to see reason. If she was fighting to restore order to the chaos they caused, then surely eventually things would go back to normal. And then I began to actually listen to some of the Rebel mages. Not everyone is lucky enough to be born a noble and a Mage. Most of them.... Dorian, some of them were abused by the very people who were supposed to be protecting them. All they wanted was to be treated like human beings, like a person. I still don't think that the way things were set into motion was right. But maybe there did needed to be a catalyst to get things going. I can only hope that when we're done, everyone will be happy."

"Not everyone will be happy with what you do," he let out a sigh of his own, "every time you say 'mages should have equal rights' there will be ten or more Vivienne's calling you an idealist fool."

"And maybe I am," her snort would have had Josephine cringing. "There has to be a middle ground. Circles are needed, mages need a place to go and learn to control their powers. But why do they need to be a place of isolation? It's foolish, all you're doing is making is easier for demons. Of course they know our deepest desires, it's not hard to figure them out. To be loved, respected and _valued_. The very things your family is meant to give you, we crave the most because we are taken away as mere babes. What if... What if they were learning centers, with weekend trips back home to begin and then eventually, if you prove you can control your power you graduate? A certified Mage, who can then go on to have a life of their own."

"You're starting to describe Tevinter, my dear."

The flames in the hearth flickered wildly as her hand twitched. "No... No. We do need templars, people who can protect others from us but also remember that we are not the enemy. People who don't take advantage of the system, hopefully because the system won't be as broken."

"An idealistic optimist. How quaint."

It was exactly what she needed to shake off the seriousness of the conversation. Grinning, she clenched her palmed to stop her game with the flames and said, "I learnt from the best."

He narrowed her eyes at her, "surely you don't mean me."

"You? Never." She pushed off the bed, making a beeline for her desk. The sigh of annoyance she let out had no heat behind it, "you ruined all my research, you know."

Dorian rolled his eyes as she stacked the books into different piles, "What research was that? How to ruin books in one easy step?"

"Funny. Truly, you should be a jester," she laughed at the curse he muttered her way, "I was looking into three schools of magic that the instructors Josephine brought are able to teach me."

"Ah. That explains the necromancy."

Linette stole a glance at him, noticed that it was his turn to blush, "it would. I promise I am not trying to gain more power. I rather like me, Dorian. I would be terribly upset if I changed too much."

He stood elegantly, draining the last of his drink. "I think your templar would be upset as well."

"Now you're just being a pain."

Dorian laughed, "and so it begins. Should I expect a case of the Inquisition's best wine shortly?"

She was about to respond when there was a knock on the door. "All I wanted was some peace and quiet so I could study," her words were coated with longing.

"Such a scholar. It would have been wasted in the Circle, clearly."

"I don't think so. I was to be the next Head Librarian at the Circle, Enchanter Elion was teaching me," she grinned as the surprise on his face, raising her voice a bit to say, "come in!"

"Clearly you would've done a remarkable job, leaving books wide open like that," he grumbled under his breath.

"Inquisitor?... I was just... Hello?"

Dorian turned to her, smirking at blush that had once again found a home on her face. "You two are such darlings. I'll see myself out."

"Oh. You don't have too, truly," her words came out in a rush. Behind her, the fire flickered again.

He raised an eyebrow at her, "not afraid of your templar, are you?"

Linette scrunched her nose up at him, "ex-templar. Don't be silly, Dorian."

"Then I'll be off."

"But the rumours-"

He let out a small laugh over his shoulder, "there will always be rumours, no matter how clean you are. You know this. Besides, me staying would just make it worse. A Tenviter Mage, the Herald of Andraste and the Commander of the Inquisition all alone in a room? Why, it's practically a scandal."

She watched him wave to Cullen as he walked walked out the door. Her stomach flipped as he smiled nervously at her, his hand flying to his neck.

"I didn't mean to intrude. I heard no one had seen you in several hours."

Her smile, she hoped, was strong. "Needed some thinking space. Sorry I worried everyone."

"No. No, just... is everything alright?"

"Nothing major. Just a spat with Dorian, had me questioning..... well, let's just say the noble in me still cares a little for proprietary. And the Mage... well, she's got some stuff to figure out. Like where this is headed."

"This?"

Linette took a deep sigh as she leaned against the desk. Crossing her arms over her chest, she murmured, "the world looks to the Inquisition, Cullen. I asked the Rebel mages to join us as allies but I still think we need safeguards in place for when the unthinkable happens. But they're also right, the injustices they faced weren't right. Not all templars were the saint you were."

She meant it as a jest, and yet the moment his face clouded over she knew she had missed her mark. "Not... No. I was no exception."

"I see," her words were barely audible. "After the Circle in Ferelden?"

".... Yes."

This was new territory for both of them. She knew little of his past, promised herself she would not push him. Taking a moment to compose herself, she rubbed her hands down her dress and said, "I don't think I can go back.  I don't think I can limited in what I can and can't do ever again. Cullen, what if what I want colours my decision and instead of doing what is right I make a selfish decision?"

"You won't."

His firmness made her smile, "there's that unshakeable faith again."

"You worry too much about doing the right thing to _not_ do the right thing," he smiled at her, the warmth in his voice chasing away the ghosts in his eyes. "Besides, with as someone as outspoken as Dorian, how could you ever do any wrong?"

"Oh right. My very own moral compass," she laughed, pushing off the desk and crossing the room. Linette stopped in front of him, rose on her tiptoes and kissed his nose, "hi. I missed you."

He leaned down to brush his lips against hers," and I you. Would like to take a walk with me, on the battlements?"

"A walk on the battlements?" she took a glance around the room, at the stack of books on her bed and desk. Hooking her arm around his, she nodded brightly, "throw another kiss or two in there and I could be convinced."

"Only a kiss or two? I think I could manage that."

_Selfish, stupid girl. Once this is over you and every mage will be tossed back in your Circles where you belong. Where this templar knows you all belong._

_Ex-templar,_ she thought angrily at the demon, _and you're wrong. There has to be a compromise._

_We will see._

It was blessedly quiet once again. Her heart beat wildly, her hands shook.

"Inquisitor?"

She looked up at Cullen, forced a smile on her face, "I'm alright."

He accepted her answer, nodding slowly.

She willed herself to believe it.


End file.
